


Prompt Me or Tempt Me Tumblr Fic 01: Frat Boy

by LupusScintilla (inkandblade)



Series: Prompt Me or Tempt Me [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dub-con of sorts, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Mentions Stiles Stilinski/Others - Freeform, Not Beta Read, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Other, Prompt Fic, See notes on the dub-con, Tumblr Prompt, Werewolf Derek Hale, college fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-03-04 06:36:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13358595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkandblade/pseuds/LupusScintilla
Summary: From a prompt byluvs-jade:I'm a sucker for frat boy!Stiles. Hope that starts something for your Muse.♠See the end notes for information on the dub-con.





	Prompt Me or Tempt Me Tumblr Fic 01: Frat Boy

It had seemed useless, the way Stiles’ Spark developed, that was.

Beacon Hills was well and truly under control by the time Stiles headed off to college. A magic user whose only gift was to bend the magic of others really wasn’t that huge a boon in a quiet town, to be honest. At least Stiles didn’t feel even vaguely guilty about taking his bizarre and pointless talent away from the Pack when he went to Berkeley.

It was bizarre and pointless until you met the plethora of supernatural beings that apparently tended to hang in and around San Francisco. They seemed especially enamored by all the young and nubile adults that attended the university. It was soon obvious that several of the staff were sirens, a handful of the grounds staff were well-adjusted ghouls, and most-likely-to-have-freaked-out-Stiles-before-he-realized-how-useful-it-was: the fact that the head of the fraternity he visited out of curiosity was a vampire.

The vampire had realized that Stiles realized what he was and quickly turned on his glamor to convince Stiles to forget that that particular frat house even existed. Stiles took hold of the vampire’s power and turned it back on the guy, making him try to woo a ficus palm for approximately 20 minutes. It was lucky that the whole vampires-don’t-appear-on-film thing was a myth. The video was gold. The guy— who had gone by the very frat worthy name of Brad for the last sixty or so years—quickly agreed to fast track Stiles into the fraternity and give him a decent, that is, private, room.

Stiles hasn’t, despite a number of major changes in his life since he started freshman classes just over three years ago, looked back.

♠

Derek was aware that Stiles told him not to come visit until exam week for a reason. He smelled the beer and the weed and the hormones as he stepped out of the parking station. It was blocks away from the university proper.

The stench intensified as he entered the campus, and stepped up several notches as he approached Frat Row. Derek could hear, if he concentrated as he walked, eight separate sets of party-noise—a strange blend of music and screaming voices and echoes—in his general vicinity. He snorted, despite himself, at the ΑΒΩ sign over the big front-door of the house Stiles lived in, and skirted five or six sets of wandering hands as he stepped into the hall. He should have left Beacon Hills earlier in the day. Most of the party goers here were well past the point of inebriation: there were two couples fucking in the thankfully-wide, down-stairs broom-cupboard, four guys and one girl throwing up in the side-yard, and at least three girls crying in the arms of others in the front room alone.

Derek tuned them out and tried to find a conversation he could use.

“He just looked through me, Mike. I mean,” the young man’s voice was vibrating with defeat. “I thought we had something. I really thought I might be the one to tame him, you know?” The guy failed at fighting back a sob, the sound muffled as he pressed his face into his friend’s shirt.

“I know, dude. We’ve all been there, though. The S-man is a one-night trip to ecstasy that none of us want to let go of. You have to, though. I made it though. Mitch made it. Micky made it. Stilinski can have any guy or girl, he just never sips from the same cup more than once.”

There were a few more sobs, and Derek shook his head and headed towards the stairs. There were a couple of girls sitting on the bottom steps.

“Of course you’re not ugly, Rach. Did you really want it though? I mean. I know they say it’s the best night you’ll ever have, but…” The girl in her arms was sniffling. “You’re better than that. Just because a guy flirts like he means it doesn’t mean he wants anything more than to get into your pants. There’s nothing wrong with being a virgin. You should wait for someone who will treat you as more than just a notch in his bedpost. Stiles Stilinski is not that guy.”

Derek took the stairs two at a time, nodding to the vampire smoking pot on the landing as he passed by. The guy, Brad, nodded back, passed the blunt in his hand to his companion, then bent in and licked at the neck of his dinner for the evening. Derek knew the vampire wasn’t a danger to him or even the woman whose neck he was about to slice into, but it was still not something he wanted to stay around to watch.

He sent the text and stood with his eyes locked on the door as he waited until Stiles undid the lock from the inside.

The guy on the air-matress on the floor—clothed, sleeping, and moaning—thrust his hips into the air and groaned out Stiles name. Stiles stepped back and dropped himself back into his chair, flipping his music from headphones to speakers so they didn’t have to hear the dreams of the other person in the room. He smiled as Derek leaned in and kissed him hello.

It was a sweet kiss, one Derek had been waiting on for the last three weeks. They broke apart when the guy on the bed groaned and came in his pants. Stiles snorted and pressed one last peck against Derek’s lips.

“How long will he sleep for?” Derek asked. They hadn’t ever really discussed the logistics of Stiles’  _undercover-persona_ , as the Pack called it. Derek knew it involved a particular mix of vampire and incubus venom, and an endless string of apparent conquests that hid the fact that Stiles spent a lot of time helping other supernaturals find their feet outside their Packs or Covens or Pods: apparently being one of the S-man’s evening guests made it so no one asked exactly how you spent the few hours in his dorm-room. Stiles Stilinski reportedly did not like those who kissed and told.

In reality, the fact that Stiles could turn any creature or being’s magic back on them meant that he could be alone, without another Pack member for back-up, and therefore able to build trust that wouldn’t otherwise be there. He had a long career as a mediator and counsellor ahead of him if that’s what he wanted.

The guy on the mattress rolled onto his side. “He’ll be out for most of the night.” Stiles stood and reached down to touch the guy’s forehead. He looked at the door. “Was it only Brad outside, or?”

“Yes. Well, him and his dinner?” Derek knew that wasn’t the correct term, but.

Stiles grinned. “Don’t let him hear you call Louise that. They recently went from donor and drinker to an actual stalk book official couple.” He bent and wrote  _thanx for everything_  on the sleeping guy’s arm with a fat marker. “If the coast is clear we can dump this dude in the end room. He won’t remember where he wakes up.”

Stiles opened the door and they picked up the young man and took him to an uninhabited room the end of the hall. It was warm and safe and there were bottles of water and even a vomit bucket just-in-case. The kid would be okay.

Derek shouldn’t be jealous of a supernatural-creature-venom induced hallucination, but the fact that this guy, and scores more, thought they’d spent the night being fucked into mattress by his Mate… Actually, Derek was okay with it. He knew the truth, and he was the only one getting fucked into anything by Stiles Stilinski.

Derek clicked the door to Stiles’ room shut behind him, and Stiles lit the special-candle that would clear out the scents of anyone but them.

“Let’s go to bed, babe.” Stiles reached over and turned off the music on his laptop. “I have two papers due next week and I finally scored an official meeting with the head of that Dryad Grove I was telling you about.”

Derek leaned in and wrapped his arms around Stiles’ middle, fitting himself along Stiles’ spine and sucking in a lungful of  _Mate_  and  _tired_  and  _want_. He was so proud of Stiles for everything he was accomplishing. He didn’t know how to say it when he was in the same room though. He’d have to settle for trying to get it across with snuggles.

Stiles turned in his arms and started pushing up Derek’s shirt. At least they’d be naked snuggles.

**♠**

**Author's Note:**

> Like to prompt me? [Prompt Me or Tempt Me](https://inkandblade.tumblr.com/ask) (please read [this](https://inkandblade.tumblr.com/post/169568857731/inkandblade-a-long-time-ago-ie-the-early-2000s) for guidelines beforehand).
> 
> Dubcon: Stiles spends a lot of his time with supernatural students in his university. He does this by making out that he has sex with a lot of people in his dorm room so that the traffic in and out of it seems normal. In reality, if his guest/visitor is supernatural, he spends the night talking to them/helping them. If his guest/visitor is human, he drugs them with a mix of supernatural venom so they _think_ they had a night of hot sex with him -- this is why the consent is dubious: they consented to come with him to his room for sex, but didn't specify what kind of sex (ie imaginary). Stiles leaves a trail of broken hearts, but is clear with them that it's a one time thing, and as their imaginations supply what makes the memory (what kind of sex they have with him in their dream), they are otherwise completely consenting.


End file.
